


Try Me

by LikeASwitchInHeat



Series: Kinktober 2019 [4]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Kinktober, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Object Insertion, Pining Rhett, Sexual Fantasy, college rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 03:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeASwitchInHeat/pseuds/LikeASwitchInHeat
Summary: Rhett takes a moment for himself during a family trip that he and Link are taking with his parents the summer before they begin college - reflecting on his feelings about his future-roommate, and what he would like to do about them.





	Try Me

**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober 2019  
Day 17 prompt: object insertion

Rhett set down his towel and change of clothes on the bathroom floor once he was safely behind closed doors with the door locked behind him. He took a deep breath, and it was like it was the first time he had been allowed to breathe all day. How was he supposed to breathe with the weight of Link’s presence looming heavily around him at all times?

Rhett wasn’t sure what he was going to do once school started, and they were around each other for months at a time. This was only a week together, and it was driving him wild. 

But it was summer vacation. They were supposed to be having fun. Chasing girls or whatever. They certainly got enough attention riding bicycles around the beachside town that Rhett’s grandmother lived in down in Florida. And it _ was _ fun, like a game: just kinda seeing whose heads they could turn. Seeing who they could get to serve them a frozen cocktail at the tiki bars, despite the fact that Link was just barely 18, let alone 21. 

Rhett’s size did most of the heavy lifting of convincing people they were college kids. Which, Rhett supposed they technically were? They weren’t in high school anymore. They would be in college soon. So, they weren’t really lying. But if Rhett’s height wasn’t enough, Link’s cocksure attitude carried them the rest of the way. He just acted like he _ belonged _ wherever he was, and people were inclined to buy it. 

Rhett caught himself smiling in the bathroom mirror on the medicine cabinet. Just thinking about what a little shit Link was. Flirting with the bartenders. Male or female, Rhett had noticed. (Had Link _ wanted _him to notice?) Not only would they serve them, but the first round was often free. 

Rhett wasn’t like that himself, he was tall enough that people didn’t question his presence, but secretly he was afraid that if anyone did tug that thread, he’d come completely unraveled - confessing to every thing he’d ever done: start with patronizing a tiki bar underaged, and work all the way back to sneaking cookies from the cookie jar as a toddler. 

But even if Rhett could summon that level of confidence. He wouldn’t use it to ask a bartender for a drink with an umbrella in it. 

He would ask Link for what he was really thirsting for. 

He thought about Link earlier that day, sunglasses shielding his blue eyes - his ultimate weapons, held on reserve. Dark hair poofed out and spikey, the humidity of the Florida air doing amazing and ridiculous things to it. His Hawaiian style button up shirt completely unbuttoned, flowing back in the breeze. The drops of sweat clinging to his skin and casually traveling down his body. How Rhett envied those droplets. 

He took a deep breath, and turned the water on in the shower. He stripped himself down and put a hand experimentally under the showerhead to test the temperature. 

No, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with himself once they were _ roommates _. 

But he had a pretty good idea of what he was going to do with himself right now. 

He stepped into the shower with thoughts of Link deliberately at the forefront. He allowed his mind to wander over Link’s body, and his hands wandered over his own. 

It wasn’t like he had never touched himself before, because _ of course _ he had. So many times. This wasn’t even the first time he’d permitted thoughts of Link to cross his mind as he did. 

But this was the first time that he allowed himself to not just passively think of Link as he touched himself, and reflect on his body as an object of inspiration; but to actively think of what it might feel like if Link were the one touching him.

Rhett’s heart pounded inside his chest as the water pounded at his chest from the outside. Rhett massaged his pecs lightly with soap suds, letting his eyes slip shut against the spray of the shower. 

An impatient hand followed the stream of water down the front of his body to grab onto his cock. He knew Link would have a strong grip. He had nice fingers. He thought about the way Link had stirred his complimentary drink earlier with one finger. Dragging the digit through the chilled liquid; lifting it up to his lips to taste it on his fingertip. 

How long had he been subconsciously admiring Link’s fingers? Not to mention his lips...

Rhett stroked himself slowly, knowing that this was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to what he was wanting from Link.

He spread his legs a little wider, with a shyness that seemed downright stupid - he was _ alone _in the freakin’ shower. And he didn’t have all day before Link, or his family began to wonder what was taking him so long. Or worse, went ahead and assumed the answer. The truth.

His resolve hardened, and he lifted one leg up onto the edge of the tub, giving himself the access that he longed to grant to Link. He slid one hand back, and ran a finger experimentally over his hole, as delicately as running a finger along the rim of a cocktail glass. He was surprised to find himself more sensitive to the light touch than he would have guessed. He thought about what Link’s fingers might feel like; wondered if he would use a gentle, teasing touch like that… if he asked him. If he’d use his tongue… if he begged him.

Rhett inhaled sharply as he applied pressure. Picturing Link pushing past his too tight muscles, inserting those mouthwateringly long fingers. 

Rhett exhaled in harsh puffs. He knew he needed to relax more. He eased into the feeling. The tightness. He felt himself relax around his own intrusion. 

Rhett decided to be wholly honest with himself. With what he wanted. And it was more than a single digit from Link. He wanted, more than anything, to feel Link’s cock moving inside him. 

His own cock twitched as he admitted that to himself in no uncertain terms. 

He’d never had the opportunity, or the nerve, to openly admire Link’s dick, but he had made some… indirect eye contact... and knew that he would need to relax a lot more than this to get what he wanted, and that he would need more than his finger to simulate it.

He glanced over to his travel toiletries, spying a clear plastic travel bag with tiny bottles for shampoos and body washes. The bottles weren’t big enough for what he was trying to approximate, but they were a little thicker than his fingers. 

He’d never actually had anything _ up there _. For some reason, Rhett felt like his own fingers didn’t quite ‘count’. 

He took out the small cylindrical bottle of shampoo and rinsed the outside off under the shower. He washed all the residue off of it with stroking motions that were too gentle and intimate for an inanimate object. The displaced movements were accompanied by thoughts — also meant for Link. Could he even make Link hard for him? Would Link even want this? To f—... to _ be with him _ like this? 

Rhett pressed his raised knee into the cool tile of the wall, the water felt nice trickling down his leg. He held the bottle against his hole, and suddenly the tiny bottle felt more than travel sized. Maybe he should have used more fingers first? Or maybe, he just needed to stop being such a wimp about this, and just fuck himself? He grit his teeth and pressed. He slid past the cap of the bottle easily enough, but paused again where the bottle blossomed our wider beneath it. He eased the cap back out, and looked around the shower. He grabbed a bottle of conditioner and used a bit to slick up his smaller bottle. 

“All right,” he husked. Psyching himself up a bit. “C’mon, man. You can do this!”

He breezed past the cap to feel the curved top of the actual bottle begin to stretch him. 

“Hnnnng, fuck, Link,” he whimpered into the wall in a hoarse whisper. “You’re so big.” 

His cock stiffened at the mental image. Link panting behind him (or above him? He wasn’t sure how Link would want him) trying to squeeze his thick cock into Rhett’s tight, naive ass. He figured Link would be panting, maybe sweating. Likely stressed. He was always too careful with stuff, and Rhett liked to think he’d wanna be careful with him, too. Just for this part. Just until they really got going...

Pressure concentrated in his groin, and butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he felt his hole gripping the bottle, and pulling it in. It tingled, and made him light headed. It began to feel _ good _. Better than he thought it might when he decided to try it. He found he wasn’t having to talk himself up much anymore. He… he was doing it. 

He bet lots of people tried this, and never talked about it. 

It wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal.

Not because he was fucking himself. But because by having to courage to do this, and the experience of having done this - he felt like he was closer to the reality of doing it with another person. There were a lot of steps between what he was doing now and what he wanted to be doing with Link; but it felt like a small victory. Because now he knew what he wanted. And he wanted _ this _. Victory felt good. It felt really freakin’ good!

He moved the bottle in and out, massaging himself with it. Squeezing his muscles around it experimentally. The plastic was too hard, and too cold. Not cold, just - devoid of its own warmth. Link would be warm, and when his ass squeezed around his cock, he’d be more… pliant. He wondered how it would feel for him - how good he could make Link feel. There’s no way he wouldn’t tell him. Link felt compelled to verbally process every other freakin’ thing, so he’d definitely tell Rhett how good it felt when he was fucking him. 

Rhett wanted it all so bad, his need burned inside his chest. 

“Oh gosh…. fuck, that’s good. You’re so good, Link… You fuck me so good.” 

There was a sudden pounding on the door that made Rhett’s heart leap into his throat, and he clenched so hard he thought he might crush the bottle in half. 

“What’re you _ doin’ _in there, man?” Link’s voice penetrated through the locked bathroom door. “You drown in there or somethin? I’m hungry, brother. Hurry up so we can get some dinner!”

Rhett had to catch his breath while Link was speaking. “I… I’m coming, man!” Rhett instantly covered his face with his broad palm, at the private shame of his questionable phrasing. “Just. Gimme a minute!”

There was no answer, and Rhett reckoned he’d really better hurry up. If Link asked him, he could just lie… say his stomach was upset of somethin’. Though he felt like that would be a real shame: to cover up the most erotic experience of his life to date, with the absolutely least sexy thing that all humans do. 

Or maybe… 

Maybe he’d tell him. Rhett didn’t think he really would, but he felt an electric thrill shoot through him at the thought of telling Link how he’d fantasized about his body as he fucked himself with a shampoo bottle. 

He removed the bottle completely, just for the feeling of how it slid back in. If there’d been any lingering uncertainty, it was gone: this was _ doing it _for him. It felt incredible to be stretched, and full. He worked the bottle in and out, loving how it stimulated the newfound and amazingly sensitive nerve endings. 

He kept his whimpers muffled, and impossibly quiet. But he knew, given the chance, he would moan for Link. Beg for him. Scream for him. As loudly as Link wanted him to. 

He wished the bottle was bigger. He frantically searched for something else he could use. He needed more. The other bottles in the shower were pornographically girthy. Full sized bottles of his mom’s bargain-value shampoo and conditioner. It also didn’t seem right using something of someone else’s. Especially his own mother’s. I mean, no one would ever know, and Rhett would clean it thoroughly afterward, but _ still _... It seemed fucked up. 

That ruled out his mom’s hair brush, too. Which, Rhett felt a twinge of regret over. The thick handle had seemed… like a good next step. 

He peeked out from behind the shower curtain, scanning the sink and vanity. His eyes came to rest on his own toothbrush. Encased in its hard plastic travel container. 

Rhett leaned out of the shower, dripping onto the floor as he extended his long limbs to stretch and reach the holder. He popped his toothbrush out of the case, dumping it into the basin before pulling the empty case into the shower with him. It was definitely longer… Seven? Maybe 8 inches. That seemed closer… to what he had in mind. 

He rinsed it off thoroughly before using the conditioner again to slick up the hard emerald-green plastic. He decided to get onto his hands and knees this time. He hovered on all fours, reaching back, and humming low in his chest as he pressed the case inside himself. He felt so relieved to be feeling that now familiar and full sensation again. He slid the case farther, his dick becoming almost painfully engorged and desperate to be touched as the pressure deepened. 

He wiggled his hips and arched his back in different ways until he found an angle that made him shudder. The breath rushed out of his lungs, almost involuntarily. He wrapped one hand around his neglected cock. 

“Yeah, Link. Touch me. Touch me, baby.” He whined as he began to jerk himself off in time with the pressure of the toothbrush case. “Fuck. Fuck me, Link. Gosh. I’m gonna come. Make me come, Link.” He whimpered as he worked himself closer. And closer. 

When he came, he bit down on his lip so harshly that he was lucky he didn’t draw blood. 

His muscles began to spasm, and the way they clenched around the plastic seemed to make him come harder. He sprayed the shower floor with his warm release. Lungs heaving. 

He allowed the case to slowly slide out into his hand, and he wiped it off twice as thoroughly as he rinsed it when he’d started. 

He felt an empty ache inside of him, and it burned a little with the memory of its occupancy.

He raised up from his shaky knees to lightly rinse himself under the shower. His trembling fingers dabbed at his sensitive hole, wiping away any residual conditioner leaking from him. The feeling of thick wetness made him feel… well, he considered the idea that it might make him feel dirty, or used. But if he was honest, he felt _ sexy _ . If he had the time - which, he absolutely _ did not _ \- he would have fucked himself all over again. 

But Link was waiting. 

So, he gently wiped the sexy feelings from his skin, and kicked to splash water all over the floor of the tub to make sure he washed away all the evidence. 

He still could still _ feel '_Link' inside him as he turned off the water and toweled himself off.

During dinner, Rhett found it difficult to sit still. He felt a little raw and itchy from his shower, and found himself shifting around in his chair more than normal.

“What’s wrong with you, bo?” Link asked, seeming more curious than concerned. “You got ants in yer pants or somethin’?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhett said, unable to suppress a secretive smile.

The idea that Rhett would keep something, _ anything _, from him seemed to irritate Link a little.

“C’mon, Rhett. You’ve been acting weird. Whatchu got goin’ on that you’re keeping from me?” 

“I mean, I _ could _ tell ya...” Rhett’s throat began to go dry from nerves. Was he _ really _going to tell him? “You might not wanna hear it, though.”

Link looked offended by the notion that he couldn’t ‘keep up’ with whatever Rhett was talking about.

“Try me.”

“Not here,” Rhett whispered conspiratorially. “Maybe after dinner.”

“No _ maybe _about it. You’re up to something, and I want in!”

Rhett nearly choked on his food over Link’s choice of words, and then his breathing hitched as he felt a firm hand grip the top of his thigh under the dinner table. He looked up and made unwavering contact with Link’s blazing blue eyes. 

“_ Try me. _”


End file.
